


Sum of Our Parts

by StarKnightStark



Series: We are but Memories 'verse [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Amnesia, Assassin Tony Stark, Brainwashing, F/M, Hydra (Marvel), Hydra Natasha Romanov, Hydra Tony Stark, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Inhuman Natasha Romanov, Inhuman Skye | Daisy Johnson, Inhuman Tony Stark, Merchant of Death Tony Stark, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Past Brainwashing, Red Room (Marvel), Red Room Natasha Romanov, Red Room Tony Stark, S.H.I.E.L.D., russian tony stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:55:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27305212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarKnightStark/pseuds/StarKnightStark
Summary: When Hydra hears that Tony Stark has regained his memories, they decide that now would be a perfect time to reclaim two of their greatest assets.
Relationships: Tony Stark/Natasha Romanov
Series: We are but Memories 'verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1993582
Comments: 2
Kudos: 73





	1. Chapter 1

_ February 16th, 2013 _

_ Ten Rings Military Compound _

_ Jaghatai Mountains, Iran _

The Avengers had just finished clearing a Ten Rings base in Iran. Steve Rogers tapped his comm.

“Black Widow, Iron Man, do you copy? We’ve cleared the East Wing, that should be all of them.”

The response was quick. “Copy,” said Natasha. “Iron Man is just downloading the data from their mainframe. We’ll be out in ten.”

“Copy, Widow. I’ll tell Hawkeye to warm up the engines.” The comm crackled with acknowledgement. It had been just over three months since Extremis had restored Tony’s memories of his previous identity as a Russian supersoldier. Ever since, he had been training with Natasha, shaking the rust off his abilities, catching up, and just spending time together.

Steve was incredulous he hadn’t realized it before. He knew Stark looked younger than he should have, in his mid to late twenties rather than the almost forty Stark legally was. He’d also noticed that Stark’s strength seemed out of proportion with his lean body. Now that he knew the truth, however, it was much easier to put two and two together. Still. Tony Stark, American genius billionaire, actually Antoshka Baryanov, Russian genius supersoldier? He was having a hard time believing it.

“That’s not good.”

Steve’s brows furrowed, and he tapped the comm. “Come again, Iron Man?”

“Oh, shi-” The comm fizzled and died. Steve removed the device from his ear, and looked at it. “Clint, I think my comm is acting up. It just sort of di-”

An thunderous explosion rocked the ground as a fireball blossomed from where Tony and Natasha had been. Steve gaped, open-mouthed. More explosions went off across the Ten Rings base, enveloping it in flames as it began to collapse upon itself. Bruce dragged him up the ramp.

“Steve, come on, we have to go! Tony has his suit, he’ll have gotten them out of there!”

Steve simply watched in shock as two of his best friends disappeared into an imploding mountain. The quinjet lifted off, and they were spirited away.

* * *

_ February 18th, 2013 _

_ Ruined Ten Rings Military Compound _

_ Jaghatai Mountains, Iran _

The S.H.I.E.L.D. recovery team sifted through the wreckage, searching for any sign of the two Avengers inside when the facility blew. Agent Joseph Grant, newly assigned to Recovery Team Alpha-6 grunted as he lifted a steel beam. Letting it fall to the ground with a crash, he turned back to his work, and stopped dead.

A metal red and gold limb stuck out from under a section of brick. With only a slight hesitation, Agent Grant reached for his radio.

“Boss, call the Avengers. They’re gonna want to see this.”

* * *

Steve watched as the workers lifted the section brick and twisted metal, revealing what was underneath. A red and gold torso shone in the rubble, half-melted, metal twisted into patterns that were not normal on Tony’s precisely machined breastplate. Energy renewed, Steve scrambled, trying to move more bricks. Eventually, he revealed the ARC reactor. The normal bright blue was dull and dark.

“Captain America, sir?”

Steve whipped around. The agent who’d spoken held a lifeless body in his arms. The face and skin was burned beyond recognition, but the fiery red hair was unmistakable.

“I’m sorry, sir. For your loss.”

With a scream of rage and pain, Steve punched a concrete wall. And another one. Over, and over, as if that would make the pain go away.

* * *

_ February 27th, 2013 _

_ Central Park _

_ New York City, New York, United States of America _

President Ellis, the Secretary of Defence, and numerous other government officials were present. The Mayor of New York was there, as were several prominent individuals in the business world. Rumiko Fujikawa, Norman Osborn, Ian Quinn, and so on.

Members of the intelligence community were also in attendance. Director Fury, Commander Hill, the Directors of the CIA, NSA, FBI, and more. The scientific community was represented by Dr. Jane Foster, Dr. Erik Selvig, Dr. Stephen Strange, and several others.

At the front, the seats of honour were reserved for those closest to the deceased: The Avengers, and Tony’s friends, Pepper, Happy, and Rhodey. Pepper dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. Rhodey just glared at anyone and everyone. Of the Avengers, Bruce was visibly struggling against the Hulk, and Steve’s eyes were red.

President Ellis wrapped up his speech, then turned towards the monument in front of all of them. A large marble plinth, atop which meticulously carved statues of Tony and Natasha were placed, with plenty of space for other statues. Ellis opened his mouth, then closed it again. This happened a few more times before he regained his voice.

“I think, what President Kennedy once said, applies here. We aren’t exploring space, but the sentiment remains. Heroes aren’t heroes because it is easy. It’s hard. But it is the right thing. Iron Man and the Black Widow gave their lives to protect this country, and this world. The least we can do is honour that sacrifice, by continuing to uphold the ideals of humanity. Those who die in this most sacred of duties will be forever memorialized in the Monument of Heroes. May they rest in peace.”

With that, the service ended. Steve wiped his eyes, and went to the monument, kneeling before it and bruising his fingers over the two names engraved on the base.

**Anthony Edward Stark**

**Natasha Alianovna Romanoff**

He had been asked to speak at the memorial, but he’d declined. Two of his best friends were dead, and nice words weren’t going to bring them back. How could this have happened? The two had only found each other a few months ago, and they’d been happier than he’d ever seen either of them. And now they were gone. No, not gone. Steve forced himself to say the word.  _ Dead _ .

He put his head against the cool marble and made a vow. From now on, no mercy. The terrorists, thieves,  _ murderers _ of the world would be made to suffer. They would rot in a cage for the rest of their lives. If that wasn’t possible, then said lives would be very short. He would harm no innocents, but he would show no mercy. 

If you were a criminal, the Avengers would find you, and they would get you.


	2. Chapter 2

_ February 18th, 2013 _

_ HYDRA Siberian Facility _

_ Siberia, Russian Federation _

Tony came to silently, his newly remembered training kicking in. He stayed still for a moment, listening, then dared to open his eyes.

He was strapped to an oddly familiar chair. His arms were strapped down, and cool metal braced his face. Tony froze. He knew what this was. A clang sounded behind him, followed by footsteps. A small, weaselly-faced man in a lab coat came into view, followed by an old man pushed in a wheelchair. When the old man saw Tony, his face lit up.

“Well, well, Baryanov! I never thought-” The rapid russian speech paused as the man coughed weakly. “I never thought I’d see you again! To think! Antoshka Baryanov, the Merchant of Death, posing as Tony Stark, America’s premier weapons developer! Now that, th- _ cough _ -that is rich. When I heard you’d regained your memories, well, I just had to have you back, my boy. And Natalia too! How- _ cough _ -fortuitous! I think we made a mistake separating you two last time. Worry not, it won’t be repeated.”

Tony’s brow furrowed. “Ivan?” he asked. “Is that really you, you old bastard? Where’s Natalia?!”

Ivan laughed, then coughed. “Now, now, Antoshka. Madame B. is telling her the same thing. But,- _ cough _ -down to business! Doctor, if you would…”

The weasally man produced a small black book inscribed with a scythe on the cover. Tony’s eyes went wide, and he began to writhe in a desperate attempt to free himself. Ivan smiled.

“Oh, yes,” he said. “You remember this part, don’t you?” He opened the book to the first page. “Doctor, let’s begin.”

Tony screamed as electricity arced through his brain.

“Fable.”

“Twelve.”

The electricity burned down his neural pathways, reprogramming his brain, erasing that which he held dear.

“Ironmonger.”

“Mechanic.”

Steve… He must not forget Steve, or the Aveng- the Av- the… What was he thinking about? Oh yes, he must not forget Steve. Or was it Simon?

“Forge.”

“Nine.”

No, no it wasn’t Simon, it was… it was… it was so hard to think, his brain hurt, it hurt so much. Tony was vaguely aware of screaming, but-wait, who was Tony? Was that him?

“Burning.”

“Scars.”

No, he wasn’t Tony. Who was he? He worked for… Who did he work for? It started with a S, right? Sh-something. No, that wasn’t right, it started with an H. Why had he thought it started with an S? That was a stupid mistake. He worked for… He wracked his brain. H-, Hy-, Hydra! That was it! He worked for HYDRA!

“Ten.”

“Market.”

Now, if only he could remember his name. He had one, he was sure, but it seemed just out of reach. Had it started with a T? No, maybe an A? Perhaps it was-

“Merchant?”

That was it! That was his name! Merchant! The Merchant of Death! He remembered now! Himself, the Merchant of Death, and his partner, the Black Widow! He knew the response to the old man’s question, and he said it happily.

“Ready to comply.”

* * *

_ February 18th, 2013 _

_ HYDRA Siberian Facility _

_ Siberia, Russian Federation _

Natalia was fairly sure she had not been in a sterile concrete room when she blacked out. The last thing she remembered was a tac team busting down the door before an EMP shut down their comms and Tony’s suit. She was fast, they both were, but before they could even react, they were both tagged with a dendrotoxin round, and out cold.

She took brief stock of her surroundings. She was strapped to a vaguely threatening-looking chair that she half-remembered. She didn’t know it’s function, but she knew it was bad. Just as she was about to break her thumb to get out of the shackles, the door behind her clanged open, and Madame B. strode in, followed by two technicians.

“Hello, Natalia. It’s good to see you again.”

Natalia gathered up all the spit in her mouth and launched it at Madame B. She simply stepped to the side and let the spittle splatter on the wall behind her.

“You know, it hurt me when you chose to leave. But, I see now,” she said. “Separating you and Antoshka was a mistake. One that Ivan assures me will not happen again. He’s with Baryanov right now. But enough talk!” Madame B. clapped her hands. “Let’s bring you back into the fold.”

One of the technicians handed her a small black book with a red hourglass on the cover. Natalia clenched her fist, and renewed her efforts to dislocate her thumb. She would not go back to being a brainwashed toy for the Red Room. Not when it took her so long to break free in the first place.

But before she could get her wrist free, the clamps on either side attached to her head, and a current was directed through. She arched her back and screamed until her throat was raw as the burning energy tore through her mind.

“Strobe.”

“Nineteen.”

Natalia shuddered, fighting a losing battle against a tide of monstrous green tentacles stretching across her mind, rooting out and destroying everything that made her, her.

“Telephone.”

“Citation.”

Steve, Bruce, Thor. SteveBruceThor. SteveBruceTh-. Who was Thor. She was fairly certain she didn’t know any Thor. Where had that name come from. That name… What was she thinking about? It was something important… Well, it couldn’t have been that important if she’d forgotten so easily.

“Seven.”

“Bookshelf.”

Her brain hurt. If only Clint were here, he’d save her, help her figure out real from not. Cli-no, that wasn’t his name? Why couldn’t she remember his name?

“Ruble.”

“Grief.”

He was her best friend, she should remember his name. But why should she? She didn’t have a best friend, did she? No, she couldn’t. She didn’t know why, but she knew she couldn’t.

“Two.”

“Silicon.”

She knew why. She was a weapon. Weapons didn’t have feelings. They didn’t have needs or wants. They definitely didn’t have friends.

“Widow?”

She smiled.

“Ready to comply.”


	3. Chapter 3

_ April 6th, 2014 _

_ Smithsonian, National Mall _

_ Washington D.C., United States of America _

A supercar rolled up to the curb, engine purring. Clint smirked out from under it. “Hey, Capsicle!”

Steve broke off his conversation with Sam, the Air Force vet he’d been running with. “Sorry,” he said. “Duty calls.”

Sam raised his hands. “Don’t worry man, I got it. Keeping the world safe, am I right? And, if you ever need something…”

“Thanks, Sam.” The car pulled into D.C. traffic with a roar.

* * *

_ April 7th, 2014 _

_ Street _

_ Washington D.C., United States of America _

“Well, what’s not damaged?” Fury yelled. The car responded in an infuriatingly calm voice.

“Air conditioning is fully operational.”

Fury chanced a look back to make sure he’d lost his pursuers. When he returned his gaze to the front, three figures stood in his way. Two men and a woman, dressed in black tactical gear and identities hidden behind a mask and goggles. The lead figure, with- was that a metal arm? fired a disc-shaped projectile. It slid along the road and attached itself with a magnetic  _ clunk _ to the undercarriage. Fury barely had time to register before the explosion flipped the car upside down.

With a groan, he shook the cobwebs from his brain and waited for the ringing in his ears to subside. When it did, he looked out the window. The three figures approached slowly, circling around. Fury activated the MouseHole.

* * *

_ April 7th, 2014 _

_ Steve Rogers’ Apartment _

_ Washington D.C., United States of America _

“Tell him I’m in pursuit.” Kate- or whoever she was opened her mouth to protest, but he was already gone.

He chased the figure across rooftops, and through at least two buildings. Finally, he had him cornered, and he whipped his shield at the figure. With impossible speed, the man caught the projectile, and launched it back at him. By the time he looked up, the man was gone.

* * *

_ April 8th, 2014 _

_ Apple Store, Gallery Place _

_ Washington D.C., United States of America _

Clint typed rapidly. “I’m not very good at this. Computers were never my thing. Natasha could have cracked it in seven minutes, Tony in three. But, but, I do have a location. Wheaton, New Jersey.”

Steve looked around nervously. “Let’s go.”

* * *

_ April 8th, 2014 _

_ Bridge Overpass _

_ Washington D.C., United States of America _

The steering wheel was ripped out of Sam’s hands through the windshield. Sam slammed the brake. A figure rolled off the roof and onto the street, skidding along, metal fingertips trailing sparks on the concrete. Before any of them could react, three S.H.I.E.L.D. vans rolled up, and several tac teams jumped out, along with two more figures, faces covered in masks and goggles. The man had short-cropped brown hair, the woman’s fiery red framing her masked face.

The battle lasted several minutes, and Steve finally managed to crack the mask off figure 1’s face. He turned back around, and Steve froze.

“Bucky?”

The response was heartbreaking. “Who the hell is Bucky?”

* * *

_ April 8th, 2014 _

_ Location Classified _

_ Washington D.C., United States of America _

Pierce strode into the vault where the Soldier was being reprogrammed. A pair of technicians worked on his arm, and the Merchant and Widow stood at attention on either side of the room.

“That man,” the Soldier said. “On the bridge. He knew me.”

Pierce’s brows furrowed. “You met him on another assignment earlier this week.” He surreptitiously glanced at the Merchant and Widow, seeing if the sight of the Captain had roused their memories as well. They stared back, faces blank and eyes unreadable. Pierce made his decision.

“Wipe them all, and start over.”

* * *

_ April 8th, 2014 _

_ Helicarrier Charlie _

_ Washington D.C., United States of America _

“Cause I’m with… ‘til the end of the line.” The Winter Soldier paused, his fist still in the air ready to punch. Merchant did not have a clear shot at the captain. The helicarrier was falling apart around them, but they had orders. Suddenly, Merchant’s comm crackled.

“Secretary Pierce is dead. Kill Captain America, then evac and meet at Rendezvous Victor-7.”

“Da, Herr Strucker. What about the Winter Soldier?”

“Acceptable casualty.” With that, the comm cut out. Merchant looked at Widow. She shrugged, and readied her rifle. He did the same. Several rounds of automatic weapons fire shredded the Winter Soldier’s tac gear, and with a cry of pain, he hurled them both into the Potomac. Merchant grimaced, then he and Widow made their way to the top deck and stole a Quinjet. They knew they would be punished for this failure.


	4. Chapter 4

_ September 15th, 2014 _

_ HYDRA Experimentation Facility _

_ [Location Classified], Sokovia _

“Merchant. Widow.”

The two assassins looked up to see Baron Strucker. He looked displeased. “Dr. Whitehall has requested your presence as… enforcers. A job well beneath you, but the Council complains that I cannot keep you to myself.” Strucker pursed his lips. “You will meet Dr. Whitehall in Puerto Rico. I am given to understand he has found something there. Report everything back to me when you are done.”

They nodded once, sharply, then began packing.

* * *

_ September 21st, 2014 _

_ Above an ancient Kree city _

_ San Juan, Puerto Rico _

Bobbi twirled her batons. The red-headed woman, face concealed by a mask and goggles, nodded to her partner. He hesitated, clearly reluctant to leave her, then sprinted after May and Coulson. The redhead produced her own batons and fell into a fighting stance.

Bobbi took a second to evaluate her opponent. Light on her feet, agile, athletic. Evidently trained. That was all she was able to figure out before the woman struck, fast like a viper. Bobbi found herself falling on the defensive. The woman was good. Very good. Better even than Romanoff had been before she died. In less than a minute, Bobbi found her batons knocked out of her hands, and she scrambled backwards. The woman prepared to bring her own weapons down, deadly electricity crackling at the tips. Suddenly, blue-purple streaked the skin on her face, and the woman went down.

Hunter stood behind her, ICER in hand. Three rounds were buried in the redhead’s neck. Hunter smirked. “That’s the third time today, love. You've got to start paying me back.”

“Hardy-har,” responded Bobbi. “Are you forgetting Mumbai?”

Hunter’s face did a weird thing. “Yeah, that was not great.” He looked down at the unconscious redhead. “Let’s tie her up and put her in the quinjet.”

* * *

_ September 21st, 2014 _

_ Above an ancient Kree city _

_ San Juan, Puerto Rico _

A man ran into the drill room just in time to see the top of Coulson’s head disappear into the hole. May fell into a fighting stance.

“You want him, you’ll have to go through me.”

The brunet man cocked his head, then shrugged. Immediately he was upon her, knives flashing and spinning, and it was all she could do to fend them off. The man was a whirlwind, never in the same place twice. May found herself having to give ground under his ferocious assault. She backed up against the drill. With nowhere to go, she put all her energy into a kick aimed at his chest. The assassin took it, and slid back several metres. Before he could close the distance again, May emptied her ICER’s clip into the man’s forehead. He slumped, unconscious, to the ground.

May tapped her comm. “Hunter, Bobbi, I’ve got one of the Enhanced here.”

Hunter’s voice came back scratchy from interference. “Copy. Bob and I have the other cuffed on the jet.”

“On my way.”


	5. Chapter 5

_ September 21st, 2014 _

_ S.H.I.E.L.D. Quinjet _

_ San Juan, Puerto Rico _

Merchant came back to consciousness quickly, but he did not open his eyes. He stayed still, listening, evaluating his surroundings. Making a snap judgement, he opened his eyes and took in the circumstances. He was cuffed on the floor of a quinjet. Widow lay on the other side of the jet. The goggles and mask hid her face, but that was alright. They had always been able to communicate only by gestures. He glanced at her. She tilted her head.

_ Are you okay? _

He did a quick inventory. No broken bones, minor bruising, slight headache from whatever had knocked him out. His rifle and pistol were gone, but the myriad knives, garottes, and other weapons he carried were still hidden on his person. He nodded to Widow.

_ I’m fine. You? _

She shrugged and flicked her fingers.

_ I’m good. I’ll take the two up front, you get the one standing guard. _ ’

_ Got it. Three, two, one _

On one, Merchant dislocated his thumbs, pulling them out of the cuffs, then snapping them back in. In less than three seconds, he was out, and sprang at the blonde woman standing near the ramp. He quickly got an arm around her neck, and squeezed. From the front of the plane he heard a british voice yelp.

“What the hell!? They’re supposed to be out a couple hours! It’s barely been five minutes!”

Merchant thought this tidbit over. So his internal clock hadn’t been wrong. That was gratifying to know. He turned his attention back to the woman in his grasp. She struggled fiercely, then went limp. Merchant held on several seconds longer. When he was sure she was out, he let go. Turning around, he was just in time to see the asian woman drop to the ground, out cold. The british man was already on the floor. The two assassins grabbed their weapons and headed out. 

When they had reported Whitehall’s death, Strucker had instructed them to bring him the Diviner, by any means necessary. So into the tunnels they went.

* * *

_ September 21st, 2014 _

_ Kree Temple _

_ San Juan, Puerto Rico _

Just as the stone slabs grinded closed, a man and woman dressed in tac gear leaped and rolled into the room, coming up with rifles ready. Despite the masks and goggles concealing their faces, Raina recognized these individuals. Merchant and Widow, two of HYDRA’s top agents. Whitehall had introduced them to her, but she had no doubts they were after the Diviner in her hands. Indeed, as soon as they spotted it, the rifles shifted to her.

Raina had no illusions that she could beat these two. She only hoped that the Diviner worked it’s magic before they killed her.

“Raina, what are you doing?” Oh. Raina had forgotten Skye was here too. “Put that down, you don’t know what it will do!”

Raina threw Skye a smile. “No, but I desperately want to find out. Don’t you?” She gasped as the Diviner floated from her hand. Skye looked nervously at it.

“Raina, stop,” she said.

Raina laughed breathlessly. “I’m not doing this, Skye. It’s out of my hands now, and there’s nothing you can do-” She glanced at the two HYDRA agents who looked just as confused as Skye. “-nothing any of us can do to stop it. This is happening whether you want it or not.”

The Diviner came to rest on the pedestal, metal sides unfurling like the petals of a flower, revealing a grouping of small white crystals. No one moved, then a cloud of white mist exploded from the crystals. Raina coughed, waving her hand in front of her face to clear the air.

An odd sensation spread up her legs, fusing them to the ground. Raina could see what looked like liquid stone pouring over Skye’s body, as well as that of the two agents. She looked down and saw the same covering her body, almost up to her breasts. As the liquid covered her face, she got one last glimpse of the room, the individuals stuck in their stone cocoons.

Skye was across the pedestal from her, reaching out, mouth open in a silent scream, hair frozen around her face. The two agents were holding each other, the man frozen pointing a pistol at the Diviner while the woman had been stuck futilely trying to scrape the cocoon off. The last thing she saw was the Diviner folding back up, before she too was encased in stone.


	6. Chapter 6

_ September 22nd, 2014 _

_ The Playground _

_ Location Classified _

Simmons glanced at the three patients in her lab. Skye, plus the two HYDRA assassins.

“Sir… Why do we have the HYDRA agents here?”

Director Coulson glanced at her. “They were exposed to an alien chemical weapon. If nothing else, I want to contain that. Raina was already gone by the time we got in there, but if we can study the effects here, we-”

“-may have a better chance of recognizing or neutralizing them in the future!”

Coulson looked at her. “You do know I’m capable of finishing my own-”

“Sentences. Yes, I know. Sorry.” Simmons frowned. “Will they at least be restrained?”

“As best as we can. We only have the one quarantine cell, however, so they’ll have to be in the same room as Skye.”

Simmons grimaced. “Well, we may as well start now. If you could step back sir?”

The hazmat suit was frustrating to work with, but Simmons made do. She made her way over to the female HYDRA agent. Feeling around the back of her neck, she quickly located the clasp. The goggles and mask came off as one, and Simmons gasped.

The face of Natasha Romanoff remained unconscious underneath. Coulson was wide-eyed. “Take off the man’s mask.” he ordered.

She turned and did the same to the male agent. The recognizable face of Tony Stark stared back. The mask dropped from Simmons’ hands with a clatter.

* * *

A little while later, Simmons gave her report to Coulson and May.

“I’ve run EKG scans of their brains, and it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen. The very structure of their brains has been altered, almost as though it’s been burned.”

Coulson frowned. “Brainwashing?”

Simmons hesitated. “It… may be a possibility, sir. I have DNA samples from them and Skye running now. My… preliminary theory is that the Super-soldier serum in their veins may have been derived from Kree tissue. It’s too early to know for sure, sir.”

Coulson nodded. “Thank you, Simmons.” The scientist smiled, and left the room. May turned to Coulson.

“I know that look. What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that if they were brainwashed, we’ll help them find themselves again.”


End file.
